Half dead, still alive
by DragShot
Summary: He always felt different, an empty space filled with an unknown disdain. Now he has to face what it seems to be the end of the known humankind, under the wrath of the infected. Will Zeck be able to survive or his apparent lack of mood will end betraying him? - Mainly OCs, but the L4D1 and L4D2 characters will have their cameos too. Hopefully, to be resumed soon.
1. Prologue: Where it all begins

**Author Note: Well, hello there everybody. Before we get started, I would like to tell you some things... don't worry, it's not that much. This is the very first fanfic completely written in English I'm making, and due to me not being a native speaker in such language it might not be perfect in terms of grammar or redaction (if you find errors, please report them in the reviews section or via PM so I can fix them as soon as possible, as I have no beta readers for now), although I'll do my best. It's not meant to be very long, I just want to test how well I can do here, writing a story set in one of my favorite games: Left 4 Dead.**

**The story will be written in first-person, narrated by the protagonist, and will show what he is going to have to pass through since the first confirmed case of infection in the town where he lives; in a trip that may take even more than one life to complete.**

**With nothing more to say, here we go.**

**Edition Note [01/09/2015]: Special thanks to "I've no clue what I am doing" (ID: 7011534) for his assistance in the reviewing of this and the following chapters!**

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**Half Dead, Still Alive  
**_A fiction series by DragShot_

**Prologue: Where it all begins**

\- **¡You're going to be late again! ¡Come down here NOW!** \- is heard from a certain distance, like downstairs to be more accurate. It is a female voice.

\- **Hmm...** \- Suddenly wakes up - **Oh, crap.**

Late. Again. With the alarm set to sound not just once, but twice, with a reasonable interval of one minute considering how hard it is for me to get up early. Why does this stuff happen to me when it's something really important? Dammit! Well, I better not loose more time.

At least mom was there as a reliable backup option, but she can get really annoying when I get late for something. Just like, anything I get to tell her I'm into, no matter how important it is or isn't. Who cares anyway? University is first.

After a quick clothes change, I rushed downstairs to have breakfast, then I went out to find a bus with a tiny hope of at least not arriving that late this time. A kinda false hope, I have to admit, but it's enough to keep me focused on what I have to do.

Yeah, my life before the infection was pretty normal for a 19-year-old guy. Except for the fact I hated it. I don't know why, but I was more or less like the kind of person that hated most of the stuff in their life due to some childhood problems they never got to overcome with time, which were just left to be forgotten, but somehow they never faded out completely.

Back to what happened that day, when I finally arrived to the classroom, I didn't found nothing else than the usual: the class had begun some minutes ago and the teacher had ended the introductory part. That one that makes the whole session a bit interesting, and the difference between a worthy class and a unproductive, wasted day for me. Ok, ok, I don't arrive late to class everytime (otherwise I would have lost lots of courses) but I do, let's see... like 60% of times. That's enough to find myself in a complicated situation in what respects to attendance, and make people look me as a man that will be tardy for almost anything.

The only thing that really called my attention that morning happened during the break. Some classmates were hanging around together, forming a circle, and seemed to be talking about something they were worried about. I sneaked in to hear what is was all about. It's not like I usually do that, but this seemed serious enough.

\- **What you heard. It was on the news this morning.** \- said a tall tough guy with a yellow t-shirt, jeans and a brown cap.

Something on the news? That means I could have found out of that before if I had time to turn on the TV this morning.

\- **Well, this certainly begins to seem less bullshit and more real.** \- replied a white-skinned girl, she was medium-sized and had red hair. - **First the case of that man whose face was eaten on a highway, and now we got crazed man trying to kill everybody with a baseball bat and bites, who supposedly was dead since days ago. And those are only nearby cases.**

\- **You guys think this may be some sort of new mental illness?** \- asked a short boy with dark hair, wearing shorts and a squared dark green shirt - **I don't think that last man was really dead. He could have been just fake dead, you know. Like those people that fall in a very deep comma that seems like a brain death, and then somehow come back all of sudden.**

\- **Only God knows for sure, Carl.** \- concluded the first guy - **Although, I've been thinking... not to take it very serious, but...** \- the rest looked at him intrigued - **what if all of this is the... start of a zombie apocalypse?**

\- **Ah, there you go again, Kevin** \- said the redhead, facepalming at the same time.

\- **To be honest, it kinda looks like the beginning of one, but I don't think so brodah.** \- added Carl.

\- **All that stuff of zombies are bullcrap, boy. Get it over with already.** \- said someone else. He looked as tall as Kevin, but thinner. He was wearing a dark purple hood and some sort of sport pants that looked too old to be worn in public.

\- **Shut the fuck up, Fergus.** \- Kevin replied immediately in a monotone voice. It seemed like being annoying was quite the norm for the mentioned Fergus.

\- **Hey there, Zeck.** \- greeted the redhead girl to me, making me the focus of attention for a few seconds.

\- **Oh, hi Ellie.** \- I replied. Being called out all of sudden felt pretty annoying, but I don't get mad with friends.

\- **So, worried about the news too?** \- she asked.

\- **Well, whatever this is, we couldn't be more screwed I guess.** \- I said while scratching my head.

\- **Come on, Zeck.** \- said Carl in a friendly tone - **Don't mess with our luck again, dude.**

\- **Yeah, there's no need to, bro. **\- we laughed a bit, as we didn't know yet what was incoming.

\- **You guys are all freaks.** \- muttered Fergus.

\- **That's fine. Nobody really cares though.** \- I shot back. He sighed and went away, murmuring something. He used to be a problem during elementary school, but now he doesn't seem to be more than a loser. Considering that was how he used to call me back then, I find it sort of ironic.

We went back to the classroom. Yet again, nothing interesting happened until late in the night.

I had gone out to buy some bread for tomorrow's breakfast. Then I saw a short man with clothes that seemed to have been ripped apart, covered in dirt and blood. He walked, limped... or something, slowly, growling a bit.

\- _**[Is this one of those YouTube jokes?]**_ \- I asked to myself.

The growls became louder, and the man charged towards me. I still suspected that it was a joke, but I was not going to be part of it, so I pretended to look scared until the last second. I quickly moved away and punched him straight in the face, sending him back to kiss the ground.

\- **Fair try, mate.** \- I taunted.

The man tried to get up, but I hadn't finished with him yet. I always wanted to return a joke to one of those geniuses, and this was my chance so...

\- **Ok, now I'm gonna beat the hell out of you, Mr. Zombie.**

I grabbed a wooden stick lying nearby and landed a pair of hits on him. He grabbed my leg in response.

\- **So, you're going serious? Bad decision.**

The next hit went to his head. That knocked him down and the growling stopped.

\- **Best luck next time, mate. Nice disguise by the way.**

When I got home, my mother was at the door, looking everywhere outside. She seemed really worried.

\- **Oh thanks God, you're safe!** \- she exclaimed and received me with a hug. That was unusual.

\- **Well, of course I'm fine. I just went for some bread, remember? I do it almost everyday. What's the worst thing that could have happened to me?**

\- **You have no idea what's going on, son.** \- she sounded deadly serious this time.

That day was my very first encounter with a common zombie, and I wasn't aware of it. I would have hit him harder if I knew. It all started on a street, but well, that happened a while ago, you know.

We are now in hell, trapped in a giant nightmare while we try in vain to come out alive, to survive. Most of the people I once knew are missing or dead. Zombies of all forms and shapes are out there, trying to hunt and eat us. Everything past is forgotten, buried unlike those undead walkers. We are now just scattered people trying to join together to be able to resist, but soon more people will fall under the infection. Maybe this is really the end of the world. To be honest, I have no idea.

I'm here. That's all you need to know.

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**AN: Thanks for reading. Comments, corrections and reviews are very welcome.**


	2. Chapter 1: Lost and Damned

**AN: First than all, sorry for the notorious delay. I've noticed the main idea I had for this fanfic was already part of others around here, so I had to think in other alternatives to give it an own identity.**

**Also, some of the known survivors might appear in this misadventure, like one of them in this chapter. Now, let's begin.**

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**Chapter 1: Lost and Damned**

\- **There's a bloody spitter around here!** \- I shouted, holding an SMG and trying to find such spitter. We didn't need to face yet another ambush.

\- **Can you guys slow down a bit? My ankle still hurts.** \- yelled Carl.

\- **You should be more careful about where you step on, dude.** \- replied a tall white man that looked like a biker, with barely visible shaved hair, a black jacket and both of his arms tattooed. He had an auto-shotgun. - **You're slowing us down.**

\- **Why so serious, Francis? I thought you said you had everything under control.** \- I asked. This biker was a bit annoying sometimes, but he was fine as mate most of times. He was just as lost as any other survivor in the end, I guess.

\- **That was before your little friend had the brilliant idea of fleeing from a hunter by jumping off a second floor.** \- said the biker.

\- **At least I could kill the hunter before it reached him.**

\- **Seriously, guys. The last gang I was in didn't last more than a few days.** \- complained Francis - **Try to keep alive for at least a week, boys.**

\- **Alright, you don't need to ask us that twice though.** \- I replied, then spotted some light in the end of the street, like two blocks away from us. It could be a lamp. - **Safe zone ahead! Hurry up, Carl.**

\- **I'm right behind you, fellas.** \- replied my friend from those old times.

One week had passed after that first encounter. Back then, I got to group up with Carl, a biker called Francis and another guy named Jin, although at the moment there was only the three of us left. Luckily for us, we found some weapons and plenty of ammo between abandoned houses in a nearby town, shortly after our first big escape.

We heard someone coughing loudly over the buildings.

\- **Oh crap, that's a smoker.** \- alerted the biker.

I nodded in response.

\- **Somebody please tell me what happened with our martial-arts man again.**

\- **He was ambushed by a charger while trying to save your ass, and then he was smashed to death.** \- replied Carl.

\- **Oh, right. I hate dead ends.** \- he concluded.

\- **So this makes like 4 things you hate already.** \- I commented.

\- **Yeah, but at least I don't hate killing all those vampires, so I'm somehow OK with the infection****** thing**.**

\- **Zombies, mate. Thery're zombies.** \- I said - **Vampires want your blood, but these things just want you dead, infected and brainless.**

The smoker yelled to signal an incoming attack. We all prepared our weapons and tried to catch sight of the special infected. Several commons appeared behind of us, as if they were alerted by it.

\- **Great. INCOMING!** \- I opened fire.

\- **Eat lead you freaks!** \- shouted Francis, taking most of zombies down as soon as they got close enough.

I tried to keep alert of the smoker and the previously heard spitter, but as the wave of zombies increased, it became impossible to keep focused on anything else but killing them. So, taking turns, Francis and I got rid of as many zombies as we could, one of use shooting while the other used the time to reload. Carl assisted us with his pistol, until the smoker made its move and grabbed him.

\- **What the frea-! HELP!**

\- **Carl! **\- I shouted, then turned back to the biker -** Francis, try to keep them busy. I gotta catch Carl.**

\- **It'll be my pleasure, kid.**

I couldn't give more than two steps before finding myself blocked by a pool of acid goo. The spitter and the smoker came together, it seems.

\- **Holy crapola. Why now?**

\- **ZEEECK!** \- yelled my dark-haired friend.

\- **Ok, good thing my running shoes are in good shape.**

I couldn't think of any other way to reach Carl than just skipping over the goo as fast as possible. I just hoped to not lose my feet in the process.

It seems like Carl was in luck today. I could pass through a spitter goo and keep going to reach him and shoot the tongue before it lifted him too high, plus, he managed to land on his good leg. A couple more shots and the smoker fell to the ground, next to us, leaving a big smoke cloud were it was.

\- **Man, this kind of infected has the worst smell of them all. Thank you.** \- said Carl.

\- **You're welcome. Now, let's give Francis a hand or two.**

\- **No need to do that, boys.** \- Francis appeared suddenly - **I managed to kill all those vampires by myself, using this reliable and always useful shotgun. Which I don't hate, by the way.**

\- **Ah, finally some good news. Remind me to grab one for myself in case we find it.**

\- **Okey.** \- he accepted.

\- **And the safe room is right there.** \- added Carl.

\- **Phew! Good thing I'm indestructible.**

\- **Alright, people. Let's get in there before more zombies spot us. The ammo we count on is limited, and we better make it last.** \- I said.

Nobody said anything until the door of the safe room was locked and blocked.

\- **Hey Carl, how's your ankle feeling?** \- I asked.

\- **Kinda better. It should be fine for tomorrow.**

\- **That's good, because we gotta move out of this city**. - stated the biker.

\- **Where to?**

\- **The south. Hopefully, the infection hasn't reached there yet.**

\- **I doubt it, but meh. There's a chance.** \- I concluded -** Now, rest well.** \- lights went off.**  
**

\- **G'night.**

\- **'Night pals.**

That was basically everything. Humankind as we knew it was possibly lost, but I didn't care that much about it. Anyway, there was a tiny chance that we could get out from here alive... right?

Ok, that's another false hope. I'm just used to them.

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**EN: Once again, thanks to "I've no clue what I am doing" for his help!**


	3. Chapter 2: Harsh Exodus

**AN: Ok, ok, one week is enough rest for me I guess. Let's continue with this trip to hell.**

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**Chapter 2: Harsh Exodus  
**

We left the safe house the next morning. Francis looked pretty mature and decided this time, something unusual in him, as far as I've got to know him these days. Well, not this time, and his sudden self-confidence quickly spread to both me and Carl.

Hordes of infected attacked us at sight, and we wiped them off on our way. We all felt indestructible.

That was until we were close to exiting the city.

\- **Crap. Road closed.** \- or more likely blocked with enormous debris of what seemed to have been once large buildings - **what now, Francis?**

\- **Godammit! We'll have to turn back and find another exit.**

\- **Hey guys, look up there.** \- said Carl

\- **I swear, if you say that thing of 'my finger' once again...** \- replied Francis

\- **No, it's not my finger, it is a-...**

\- **Helicopter!** \- I finished his sentence.

A black helicopter wielding a big light was flying over what was left of the city, probably looking for survivors or something. We all shouted and waved arms trying to get the attention of the pilot. He didn't seem to notice our efforts.

\- **Great, the pilot didn't give a damned fuck about us.** \- I concluded.

\- **I hate helicopters.** \- grumbled Francis.

\- **You know what? Now I hate them too.** \- said Carl.

We went backwards a couple of blocks, looking for another exit. A half destroyed building seemed to be the best route, although we would have to jump from a second floor to get out to the non-blocked side of the road.

The three of us got inside it. We went by several offices, shooting down any infected we found. Fortunately, all of them were commons... except one, that big one.

We were close to the destroyed room that would serve us as an exit when we heard heavy steps. The ground started to tremble beneath us.

\- **Now what the hell is going on?** \- asked Francis.

\- **It seems like something big is coming for your ass.** \- I replied.

We all aimed our weapons to a small door behind us, waiting for the thing to appear. How big could it be?

The thing appeared to answer my question, unfortunately. The door and part of the nearby walls were completely destroyed by a 2 and half meters high pink colossus with oversized muscles, which emitted an ear-ripping roar. A bloody Tank, as later I would know it was called. We were all shocked.

\- **A-any suggestions now, guys?** \- asked Carl.

\- **RUN BITCH! RUN!** \- I shouted as I turned around to flee, the other two coming right after.

We rushed to the destroyed room, as we had to leave as soon as possible, but that thing didn't even need time to catch us. Francis was its first victim, being tossed off the building towards the road with a punch.

\- **Well, at least that solves the part of jumping for him.** \- I said.

\- **That's great, but how about us!?** \- replied a scared Carl, while the tank turned to us slowly.

I spotted a couple of canisters behind the thing.

\- **Hmm... Ok, I got an idea.**

\- **Oh, no. No another one of your crazy ideas.** \- replied Carl - **We are freaking dead now.**

\- **Then go try your luck with that... thing, and kill yourself!**

No matter how awkward this might sound, he did it. He actually did it. One shot with my own pistol was enough to hit the canisters, by the way.

\- **Meh.** \- if I was going to die, I wanted to at least enjoy it. You know, "going out with a bang", they say. -** KABOOM!  
**

The next thing I knew, there was a big explosion and more debris falling everywhere. Something must have hit me because I don't remember much more.

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**BOOM!**

\- **WHOA! What the actual fuck?**

What was left of the building was reduced to rubble in front of the biker, who was barely able to stand after being tossed by the Tank from a second floor. He looked for his shotgun and picked it up. Then, he proceed to remove some dirt from his clothes.

\- **Ok, I'm sure at least one of them is alive.**

Another explosion came from the debris, launching big portions of concrete near Francis, and a big fireball. Now there was burning rubble instead of just rubble.

\- **Oh come on!** \- he shouted - **These kids didn't even last more than five days, for fuck's sake. That's it! I gotta get some people of my age.**

And so, the biker continued his journey, following a road which would take him to other survivors to face this hell with. But that's another story.

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**AN: In case anybody out there wonders, no, this is not the end. Zeck is going to face worse things than just being crushed by debris and a tank.**

**So, yeah, I couldn't come with more stuff for a second chapter, even though I had a whole week of chance. My apologies about that. Hopefully the next chapter I will be able to add more.**

**Suggestions? Comments? Terrible grammar errors? Spam them all in the reviews section. Thank you very much for reading :) .**


	4. Chapter 3: Move out!

**AN:** **Time to continue. As if being crushed by some walls and a tank wasn't bad enough, now Zeck can't find anybody nearby.**

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**Chapter 3: Move out!**

Waves of intense pain hit me while I tried to get out of that pile of debris, but it was nothing compared to the fact I could survive that. I still couldn't believe it. There was even a tank (or whatever was left of such) over all of it.

Anyway, after about twenty minutes of struggling to pull out my legs, I finally got free. Hopefully, the pain I was feeling wasn't a sign of something broken. I had to go the way down limping, and the jump didn't do any good to me. There was the outgoing road, leading to who knows where, but... where's everybody? OK, I guess Carl is no more, but what happened with the biker?

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**[A pair of weeks later]**

A group of four people were standing on a pile of destroyed cars in middle of an intersection, fighting an immense horde that came attracted by the sound of a car alarm that was still on and blaring loudly. One of them was the biker, with his autoshotgun as usual. With him there was an old man wearing a uniform that seemed to come from the Vietnam war, considering his appearance and state, using an assault rifle. There was also a younger black man wearing usual office clothes, formal shirt and tie included; he was bald and handled an UZI to defend himself and his mates. Finally, there was a young brunette girl, wearing jeans and a red jacket, firing two pistols as well as she could.

Whenever they looked, there was only one thing at sight: zombies.

\- **Whoooo! Yeah!** \- shouted the biker, after blasting three zombies in one shot.

\- **Come on, Francis. We're being almost overwhelmed by these creeps and you seem so pleased that I feel sick.** \- the officeman commented.

\- **Whatever Louis, this is way better than most of the stuff I did before. It's definitely more exciting.**

\- **You must be kidding. **\- panted the young girl.

\- **Don't waste your time, Zoey. **\- muttered the old man -** Hey Francis, it will definitely be exciting to see how these damned creatures slowly rip ****your body apart.**

\- **Lady, please shut up. Let me have my fun.** \- Said Francis - **And go to hell, Bill.**

\- **Man, THIS is hell.** \- grumbled Louis.

\- **Then, stay out of my little piece of hell!** \- yelled Francis, as he continued firing his weapon.

* * *

**[Back into the present]**

Well, I guess he left. It isn't like I wouldn't have done the same thing, I mean, what time was it? My watch was destroyed, it sacrificed itself to save my left wrist from suffering some contusions. Plus, it seemed to be late in the afternoon. I think I was out for some hours then.

With nothing else to do, I started walking through the deserted road. Good thing my backpack was still in regular shape and most of the stuff inside was not broken. The not-so-good thing was, the only weapons I had left were a couple of Glock pistols. I pulled one out to keep on hand, just in case. The pain started to fade.

* * *

For the next day I felt better. I found myself in another city, although this one was way bigger. There were many stores and the center of it looked like a massive shopping center. The only thing it seemed to lack of were safe rooms, I could barely find two during my scouting across the place. Maybe there were some others inside the buildings, but I didn't want to explore inside. Other thing that seemed strange was that the place was a bit too quiet. There was nobody anywhere. Not even infected, but that was impossible. I mean, there should be at least some commons, but I didn't spot a single one the whole day. What the hell had happened here?

I didn't thought they could find me.

The sun was starting to set, and I was getting back to the nearest safe room I could find, when I noticed something. There was more garbage lying on the ground than I remembered, and it seemed to be recent, like very recent; and then, a smell of something burning. Hopefully there were people nearby, but with people nearby there is also one more thing that comes without fail: zombies.

Or maybe they were here already.

Anyway, I pulled out my pistol and checked around. It was dark inside the building the smell was coming from, but then I found the source of it. In an open area inside it there was a small bonfire, with nobody around. That was strange, and suspicious.

Maybe they were aware of my presence, and waiting.

A gun aiming right behind me answered.

\- **Hold still, wanker.**

I tried to see who it was without turning my head, but I couldn't. Then, to break the tension, I simply turned around.

\- **What is it?**

There was a thin but sort of tall man behind me, wearing a red and brown jacket, gray jeans, small lens and what seemed to be a cowboy hat. He was aiming at my head with a hunting sniper rifle.

\- **You're 'clean', right?** \- He asked.

\- **Yeah... yeah, I guess.** \- I said in response.

\- **How would I be sure you're not infected?** \- He asked in a suspicious tone.

\- **Do I look like I've been bitten or something? Don't worry, I'm fine.** \- I assured.

\- **Hmm... alright then, mate.** \- He put down his weapon.

Oh well, this could have easily been way worse.

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**AN:** **Thanks for reading and excuse the delay!**


	5. Chapter 4: The Head Hunters

**Chapter 4: The Head Hunters**

\- **I'm back! What did I miss?** \- a voice with a southern accent was heard behind the corner.

\- **Hey, Dell. I just found this boy wandering around.** \- replied the man next to me.

A guy of about my size, wearing a blue squared t-shirt, light brown pants and a big white western hat, appeared in front of us. He was carrying a wooden box on his shoulder. On his belt, a black wrench could be seen attached to it.

\- **Eh... are you sure he's not infected?** \- asked Dell - **The last thing I need is a darn funky zombie party going on here, you know.**

\- **No worries, mate.**

\- **Yeah, it's OK.** \- I said - **It seems like I've been lucky enough to keep myself in one piece so far.**

\- **Alrighty then! But if you feel like biting anyone of us please start with Mundy, so I get enough time to blow both of your heads up** \- concluded Dell.

\- **Hehehe! Sure thing, man.** \- I gave a thumbs up.

The southerner then began to unpack the contents of the box he brought with himself. There were some weapons, a lot of ammo and several cans of all sorts of food.

\- **Ohohoh... just look at all this beauty! **\- congratulated Mundy -** Great job, mate.**

\- **Thanks, mister. Good thing I managed to bring more stuff for our new recruit.**

\- **What?** \- I asked raising an eyebrow - **You're talking about me?**

\- **Heck yeah! Mundy, this was your idea, so I guess you should introduce it to him.**

The tall man sat on a border of the opened box and grabbed a rifle. This one was sightly longer than his, although thinner.

\- **You see boy,** \- he proceeded to explain - **we are more than just two buddies wandering around a post-apocalyptic world plagued of undead creeps than want to beat the heck out of everyone at sight. We are a society, or well, just the very beginnings of it: we are the Head Hunters.** \- He extended his hand in front of him as he continued - **Travelers in chase of simple things in life: food, a nice place to stay the night in, zombie heads and... fancy-looking hats!**

\- **Hats?** \- I asked.

\- **Yeah, hats! You listened well, mate.** \- Mundy replied appreciatively.

\- **Alright... but what's the deal with the hats?, if I may ask.**

\- **They're just fancy,** \- he said in response - **they fit nicely as a distinctive feature of every Head Hunter.**

\- **So... you're inviting me to join your club, correct?**

\- **Of course.**

\- **I guess I have no problem with that. It could make things more interesting.**

\- **Ah, I see you spotted the purpose behind all of this.** \- he said with a grin in his face - **Now, to get started, you could begin by telling us your name.**

I facepalmed. Dell tried not to laugh.

\- **Oh, sheesh, you're right! Sorry man.** \- I said, while feeling a bit embarrassed - **Name's Zeck.**

\- **Good. Now, your weapon. Pick one of these, we got some nice sniper rifles today.** \- Mundy pointed at the contents of the box he was sitting over.

I scratched my chin with my right hand while I was thinking. There were several rifles, all of them of different aspects and probably calibers too. As I wasn't a weapons collector or something I didn't know too much about weapons, so I simply chosen the one that looked the coolest: a silver compact rifle with a stylized black scope. I picked it up from the box and tried out the scope.

\- **Nice one, fella.** \- said Dell - **Here's your hat.**

He gave me a gray panama hat. I tried it on. It was better than nothing.

\- **Here ya go!** \- said Mundy, standing up - **Welcome to the Head Hunters, Zeck. Tomorrow morning we'll go out to practice some shooting, so you can get used to headshots. By the way, you better bring something with you to take note of the number of headshots you get. They determine your position in this society.**

\- **But we're just three people.** \- I replied.

\- **Maybe,** \- he said - **maybe. But someday, we might be more. Me might be ten, we might be hundreds... we might be even thousands. Who knows?**

\- **Hmp. If you say so.**

\- **Alright, fellas. It's time to get some rest.** \- concluded Dell - **I gotta get some mattresses back from the deposit, so our newest teammate can rest his head on something cozy tonight.**

\- **That's great, dude. Thank you very much.**

\- **Much obliged.**

For once in a while, I had a really nice rest.

* * *

**AN: Obvious reference is obvious. This won't make the fic a crossover though. Also, I would like to give a warm welcome to my very first follower: The-Moyashi.  
**

**Thanks for reading, everybody. Hopefully I will come with something longer next time.**


End file.
